


Stuck Thinking About You

by RodeoQueen



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Breaking the Fourth Wall, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Romantic Comedy, Vulnerability, characters call out the writer for her lazy writing, request, taking care of the twins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:14:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28187496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RodeoQueen/pseuds/RodeoQueen
Summary: TheLastCrusader Requested: Dante or Vergil gets immobilized in some embarrassing or inconvenient way during a job and then (Y/N) pays them company until they can be freed. How about they have a crush on (Y/N) and they don't know it is returned until the end?
Relationships: Dante (Devil May Cry)/Original Character(s), Dante (Devil May Cry)/Original Female Character(s), Dante (Devil May Cry)/Reader, Dante (Devil May Cry)/You, Vergil (Devil May Cry)/Original Character(s), Vergil (Devil May Cry)/Reader, Vergil (Devil May Cry)/You
Comments: 4
Kudos: 89





	1. Dante

**Author's Note:**

> _I hoped this made up for my late reply, @TheLastCrusader._

**_Dante_ **

Dante was the Legendary Devil Hunter, a tried and true hunter with the might of hundreds of men. And here he was, paralyzed by a venomous demon. During a hunt, it had a lucky shot and hit him with a dart. It would have killed a normal man three times over, causing the victim to lose muscle function and die. Since Dante was not a normal man, his body would metabolize the poison in due time. It’s just too bad he was stuck in his current form, arms to his side and stiff. He was lucky to be able to talk anyway. 

Nero had laughed at his predicament and dragged him back to the van by the boots, throwing him onto the spare seat like a sack of potatoes. His brother had smugly walked alongside his son, entertained by how Dante complained about his now immobilized situation. 

“Laugh it up. When I can move again, I’ll be kicking your asses.” Dante threatened, face down on the cushion with his sword strapped to his back. He sounded muffled and Nero laughed at him again. 

“Wait until (Y/N) found out you got shot in the butt by a demon.” Nero jeered. Dante groaned. 

Oh God forbid you found out, his crush. The gorgeous and funny (Y/N). He’d be a laughingstock. 

You had been working on the Devil May Cry paperwork when the red devil was carried in looking like a cardboard cut out of himself. The red devil was incredibly displeased and had a sour look on his face. 

Nero and Vergil dropped him onto a couch, dusting themselves off and high-fiving. 

“What happened to Dante?” You ask, seeing how Dante was unnaturally still. 

“My brother was unluckily poisoned. The toxins shall wear off soon, although he will be stuck like this for the meanwhile.” 

You see Dante attempt to move with his grunts and groans, yet to no avail. 

“Yeah, he’s gonna have to wait for it to wear off. You should’ve seen him, he gets jabbed and he just drops like a dead body!” Nero wiped a tear of laughter off his face. 

“Anyways, I gotta go back to Fortuna. Call me when he’s back to normal.” Vergil nodded as his son left the door. 

He turned his gaze to you. 

“I am going to retire to my room. Please let me know when he can move again.” He said as he exited the first floor. 

You put your hands on your hips seeing the devil still face down on the couch. 

“Um..Dante?” 

“Yeah?” He said, slightly muted by the cushion. 

“Are you alright?” 

“Can’t move. Stuck.” 

“..Do you want some help?” 

“Nah, I’m alright.” 

“Well, are you sure?” 

“Yeah, don’t worry about me. I’m fine.” 

There was a pause. You could hear Dante trying to breathe with the leather of the couch right up on his nose. 

“Would you like to be face up?” 

Dante stopped for a moment. 

“Yes.” You grinned, getting up from your seat to help out the red devil. Rolling up the sleeves of your sweater, you began by pulling on his side at the innermost of the sofa. You grunted as you put all your might on him. 

He was literally built like a brick house, and he sure as hell weighed like one. You broke a sweat getting him to be perpendicular to the couch before gravity helped out and you tipped him over. He fell back on the couch with a resounding thump. 

“Thanks (Y/N).” He flashed his charming grin, a bit of a struggle as his face muscles were slightly numb. 

You smiled at him. You saw how his veins were slightly darker, and he was quite pale. His body must be working overtime to detox itself. 

“Do you want anything while you’re trapped like this?” He made an effort to try to shrug. 

“I’m good.” Dante was not good. He was freaking out. You were used to touching him, punching him when he said a joke too cheesy, and those grazing touches he’d freak out internally over. You had such nice hands. His side where you pulled him up had tingled. 

You made your way back to the desk, Dante’s eyes on your rear. 

You went back to work, typing up reports, and examining payments from clients. Music played from your headphones, leaving Dante in silence. 

The sounds of you typing, scratching down notes on a notebook, and humming lull him to sleep. Maybe when he wakes up, he’ll be up and running again. 

You were half an hour into your work when you heard snores. Looking up, you see that the younger Sparda twin was fast asleep, probably sleeping off the toxins. An endeared smile crept up your face, seeing how at peace he was. 

Dante was an attractive guy, he was nice and funny. He seemed to always want to hang out with you and make you laugh. What a nice half-demon who was your boss. 

The veins around his neck seemed to pulse, forcing the blood to withdraw the demonic toxins within it. 

You admired the white-haired male, before going back to the papers. 

Dante woke up a few hours later. 

He tried to stretch, only to find his limbs were still stuck to his sides. 

“Ah shit.” He mumbled, yawning. His jaw popped in several places and he tried turning his head to see you. 

You answered the phone tucked by your ear as you rapidly typed out more reports. 

Once you had hung up the phone, you saw that the sleeping man had awakened. 

“Hey, Dante. You’re up. How are you feeling?” Dante sighed.

“Still can’t move.” You frowned. Even with his metabolism? 

“Aw, that sucks.” 

“Is that all my paperwork?” Dante asked, seeing the mountain of papers on the table. You slapped the yellowed papers. 

“This bad boy can fit so many missing payments.” You joked, quoting a car commercial you saw. Dante rolled his eyes. 

“Yeah, let’s all make fun of Dante.” He said. 

You went back to check a few things. Dante peered at the clock. Crap, he always forgets to fix that clock. It’s been 4 o’clock for three months now. 

Dante coughed. He hadn’t had a sip of anything for hours now and napping always made him wake up with a desert-dry throat. He also wanted to rub his eyes but once again, can’t move. 

There was a knock on the door. You grabbed your wallet and got to the door. An amazing smell hit Dante’s nose. 

You came back into his line of sight when you came back with a plastic bag

“You hungry?” You asked, opening the box of pizza you had ordered. You hummed with approval when you saw no olives. 

“Meh, not really.” 

Just when Dante wanted to be low-key, his stomach made the loudest noise. It was like a damn whale call. Mind you, he was starving after his nap. He flushed with embarrassment but tried to play it off. 

You laughed. You made your way over to Dante. 

“It’s fine, I got enough for the two of us.” Setting the pizza box on the ground, you sat next to his still paralyzed form. 

“Oh man, you totally didn’t have to-” His stomach made a louder noise at the amplified smell of baked goods. 

You laughed at his expression. 

“It’s not like I can just move and take a slice right now.” He groaned. His eyes widened when you held up a fork of sliced pizza. You absolute angel. 

“I know.” You winked. 

“Now say ah..” You teased. He smirked, opening his mouth to be fed. 

Dante felt the warm cheesy culinary creation hit his tastebuds. He reveled in the lack of olives, something he always got on his slices whenever he ordered. 

You helped yourself to your own slices between feeding Dante. 

He swallowed wrong and coughed. He had already hidden his dry throat from you, not wanting to be needy. He continued coughing like a madman. A straw hit his lip and he simply sipped it, doing whatever he could to counter his fit. 

The familiar sweetness of cola soothed him and he let out a small burp.

“My bad.” He smiled as you laughed. His eyes darted to the can of soda you put back on the floor. Holy shit. You were drinking out of that. You gave him your straw. You were cool sharing drinks with him. That was an indirect kiss. Dante was ready to implode. Before you could notice his shock, he quickly made a diversion. 

“Where did you order this? It’s a lot better than the place I order from.” He asked after another forkful. You shrugged. 

“It was this new place that recently opened up. It’s close to where I live. Thought I’d spice things up a bit and pick a new joint.” 

“Have you been there before?” 

You shook your head no. 

“Yeah, I haven’t. This was my first time ordering there.” Maybe next time Dante could take you there. 

“Feeling bold aren’t we?” You asked smugly at his mumbled sentence. Shit. He did not mean to say that out loud. 

“Uh. Yeah. I am.” He sputtered. You chuckled at the devil’s sudden bashfulness. 

Dante wished he knew when to shut up. This was one of the times he wished he could. 

“Yeah. I like you a lot. You’re really nice to me, you’re real good looking too. This is totally not how I wanted to ask you out but here I am. This is really awkward for me. You can totally say no. I’m not going to be mad. I’m also your boss so that might be weird-” 

“Tell you what-” You quickly gave him another piece of pizza. 

“Once you can move again, I’ll take you on that offer.” You winked. Dante almost choked again. 

“I like you too, if you haven’t noticed.” You added, looking away for a moment. 

He laughed. You angel. 

Once the slices were cleared and the drink finished, you cleaned up. Dante saw through the window a completely dark night. 

“Whoa. It’s super late. Are you sure you want to go out that late?” Dante asked, genuinely worried. 

You shrugged. 

“I mean, it’s not too bad. I don’t live that far-” 

“I can teleport you home.” Vergil called from the stairs. The older twin came down with his book in hand. 

“Oh Vergil. Nice to see you. I saved you a couple of slices of pizza.” You pointed to the box that lied on Dante’s desk. 

“No need. Although the gesture was very kind of you.” Vergil quickly took out the Yamato, slashing through dimensions.

“Well this is oddly convenient plot-wise. Totally lazy writing. The writer definitely gave up on the conclusion. This is outrageously well-timed.” You said, hands on your hips. Vergil gave you a look.

“What?” 

“What.” 

“Anyways. I’ll see you soon. Call me when you’re back to normal.” You say to Dante. He winks at you and makes a clicking noise with his mouth. He’d do the finger guns too but again, he can’t freaking move. 

You left promptly, waving at Dante and thanking Vergil. 

The older twin turns around to see his shameless brother. 

“So, how long were you upstairs waiting for her to leave?” 

“Too long. I’m surprised she took overtime just to take care of your sorry self.” 

“I’m the one with a hot date, Mr. I Got Laid Once.” 

His brother scowled. 

“If it were not for the fact that you are not a fair match in your current condition, I would have slaughtered you by now.” The Yamato was pointed in his direction and Dante blew a raspberry at him. 

“Whatever.” 

“I’m going to bed. You can stay on the couch, you dolt.” Vergil snipped, going back up the stairs. The lights were shut off, leaving Dante in darkness. 

Dante smirked, closing his eyes. He can’t wait to wake up tomorrow and plan out a date with you.


	2. Vergil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _One Way To Dante's Heart Is His Stomach. For His Brother, It Is Not As Simple._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Reading Blake Hurts My Brain: Vergil Is A Try-Hard Geek_

Slicing through groups of demons while twirling in the air, Vergil obliterated his enemies. He landed deftly onto the blood-soaked ground. His brother Dante had shot through another horde himself. 

After minimal time spent fighting, the infamous duo already prepared themselves to go home, a job well done. 

“You should join a circus for how much spinning and jumping you do.” Dante quipped. Vergil raised a brow. 

“With a face as hideous as yours, you would be an excellent freak show exhibit.” The elder twin snarled. 

Dante laughed, hands on his hips. 

“Oh please, I’m the prettier twin. My hairline hasn’t flinched, unlike yours.” Vergil stilled. 

“I’ll have you know-” Dante saw a demon Vergil had sliced into slowly raising its tail. It was spiked with various deadly purple needles swishing about. Disemboweled yet still alive, it hissed and whipped its tail. A whistle rang through the air as foot-long spikes flew through the air. 

“-Look out!” Dante quickly shot the demon, its head caving in like a rotten pumpkin. Vergil dodged the dart-like appendages, a mildly displeased look on his face. 

“You’re getting sloppy, Vergil.” Dante teased, shaking his coat of any poisonous darts. 

“If you weren’t so exhausting to deal with, I’d-” Vergil suddenly tensed and fell to the ground. He landed knees first before his torso and head slid onto the earth. Dante let out a breath, and then he wheezed out a laugh. 

“Oh my god, Vergil!” Vergil attempted to move from his embarrassing position, face down and rear pointed to the sky. 

“What on earth? I cannot move.” He felt numb as if he had lost control of his form. Had he missed a dart? 

Dante came around his brother’s kneeled over position. Right on his posterior, had a stray dart pierced him. 

“Poor Vergil, as if a stick up your ass wasn’t enough.” Vergil’s sounds of struggle were fruitless as his form was dumbly paralyzed. 

“Don’t you dare say it-” 

“jAcKpOt!” Dante wheezed and held onto his sword to prevent him from falling over and crying with laughter. 

“Help me at once, you oaf!” Vergil exclaimed. Dante wiped away tears of joy. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever.” He vanished The Rebellion and gently kicked his brother to the side. Vergil landed on the dirt looking like he was in a fetal position. Dante continued laughing the whole way down the mountain, carrying Vergil over his shoulder. 

“This is incredibly undignified.” Vergil snarled. 

“Wait till (Y/N) finds out you got shot in the ass-” 

“You will do no such thing!” Vergil exclaimed. 

You were on the couch, reading a book when Dante kicked the door down. 

“Guess whaaaat!” He yelled, holding Vergil over his shoulder. He marched his way over to the beat-up sofa, gesturing for you to move over. You scooched to the end, Vergil was tossed onto the cushions. 

“Vergil, are you alright?” You asked, seeing how he refused to make eye contact with you. 

“Big brother here got jabbed by some demon. He’s not dead yet so I doubt it’s that bad.” 

Dante reached into his pocket, steadily taking out the needle that he took out of Vergil’s behind. 

He threw it like a toy dart and it landed on his desk. 

Vergil remained silent, simply biding his time before he could forget about his embarrassing ordeal. 

“Wouldn’t he be more comfortable in his room?” You asked, knowing Vergil always took to his room after a mission. Despite your many attempts to make conversation, he was quick to leave before any talk could be initiated. 

“Nah, I need you to keep an eye on him. I’m going to do whatever I want now that he can’t stop me.” 

“If you are going out and gorging yourself on those unhealthy sundaes again-” 

Dante made an evil laugh as he ran out of the shop. 

Vergil sighed. This was terrible. He watched as you examined the needle, opening your computer and a few books. 

Half an hour passed of pure silence, you flipping through books and seeing what on earth caused Vergil to stiffen up like a corpse. 

“Vergil, are you alright?” You asked again, seeing how still he was. 

“What does it look like?” He snapped. 

You raised an eyebrow at him. He sighed again. 

“My apologies. I am not very comfortable trapped in my own body.” You nodded. 

“Well, it says here that the demon that poisoned you could kill men in a second upon injection.” 

“Joy.” Vergil deadpanned. You chuckled at his expression. Vergil softened at your laughter. 

“Since you’re still alive, I’m guessing your demon side is working really hard to get all that toxic stuff out of you.” 

“The blood of Sparda will not wane to a petty demon.” He said lowly.

It wasn’t for an hour until Vergil felt his form begin to feel sensation. His hands barely twitched despite the sweat he built up from trying to move. 

_Your demon side.._

Vergil remembered your comment. A spark of genius hit him. If he devil triggered, he might be able to metabolize the toxins faster. He willed it within himself, grunting and trying to trigger. 

He could feel his senses slightly amplify as if his triggering process was truly forcing the poison out. Suddenly, the warm surge of his blood flowing became known to him. Yes! This was working. 

With more heaving and straining, he felt his arms slowly loosen from his sides and his legs straighten out. 

“Uhhh. Vergil?” Distracted, he felt his muscles tense again and as a final resort, his reflexes rolled him off the couch. The back of his head flared out in pain as he hit the floor. He laid on the ground, a defeated blue devil. It was pathetic, he couldn’t even trigger his scales to come out. Grumbling, he noticed you standing near him, looking down with concern. 

“Do you need help?”

"It appears that I am stuck."

"Do you want some help?"

"I don't want your help, I’m fine."

"All right, then.”

"...."

“Are you sure you don’t want to be moved?” Vergil sighed and closed his eyes. 

"That..would be preferable.” 

You rolled up your sleeves, ready to lift him up. He smirked. 

“You should have just said so, silly!” You grin as you place your hand on his back and the pit of his knees. 

“I’m afraid I am not that light, surely lifting me would-” He stopped as you literally bridal carried him. 

“-be toiling…..” He flushed at close proximity of you. 

“How are you this strong?” He blurted. 

“The writer wanted to have a reverse damsel in distress scene. I will never exhibit this strength in future plot lines.” You said sweetly, looking at him with a smile. 

Vergil stopped, staring at your face. Although he was stone-faced as usual, his eyes drank in your wonderful features. It took him a minute to realize you had said something. 

“What did you just say?” 

“Hmm? Oh, I was asking if you wanted to be sitting up or on your side.” 

“..Sitting upright would be fine.” 

You placed him on the sofa again. 

“Is there anything you want while you’re in this situation?” Vergil tried to shrug. 

“It’s fine. I will abide by my time.” 

“You don’t have to be bored, I can play something if you want.” 

“Such as what?” You pointed to your computer. 

“I have an audiobook subscription. If you like, I can play some William Blake poetry.” Vergil raised a brow. He had never been an avid user of technology. If he were to hear any recited poetry it’d be from his own whispers. 

“You also read Blake’s works?” 

“I know you do.” Oh, you thoughtful little sparrow. 

“That would be alright with me.” You were quick to type away on your computer to find a recording. Soon, a male voice permeated the air, reading off verses robotically. 

It was a bit of an awkward moment, Vergil’s continued stone face and you observed it gravely. The recording ended shortly as you paused it. 

“You don’t seem to like it.” 

“Poetry should be spoken, not read off of like an instructions’ manual.”

“How would you do it then?” Vergil took his chance. You were not keen on working now, focused on him instead. 

“My book. It’s in my room. Retrieve it and I shall demonstrate myself.” He teased, a ghost of a grin upon his face. Damn this paralysis. 

You left, rounding up the stairs. 

You entered his room, making sure not to knock anything over. Not that you really could, the room was pristine. You easily saw the brown leather book on the dresser. The leather was well-worn and soft to the touch, a single page dog-eared. 

“So, you’re Mr. Poetry, huh?” You teased as you went down the stairs. 

“The one and only.” Vergil did not miss the old reference to Griffon, the dear bird you cried over. 

You made your way to the couch, sitting on the arm of the sofa. 

“Now which page?” You asked. Vergil stared at you.

“Just start from the beginning.” You obediently flipped to the first page. 

“So do you want to read it?” 

“How am I supposed to hold it up?” Vergil smirked at your sputters. 

“I keep forgetting!” You made your way over to him, choosing to sit on the floor by him. 

He cleared his throat. 

_“I was angry with my friend:_

_I told my wrath, my wrath did end._

_I was angry with my foe:_

_I told it not, my wrath did grow_

_And I watered it in fears,_

_Night and morning with my tears;_

_And I sunned it with smiles,_

_And with soft deceitful wiles._

_And it grew both day and night,_

_Till it bore an apple bright._

_And my foe beheld it shine._

_And he knew that it was mine,_

_And into my garden stole_

_When the night had veiled the pole;_

_In the morning glad I see_

_My foe outstretched beneath the tree.”_

Vergil’s voice had a timber, soothing lowness to his usually raspy tone. He was in the zone, eyes blank as he had read this millions of times. 

“It’s a nice poem. It’s a bit brutal though.” You commented. 

“It is.” 

This went on for some time, Vergil reciting while you observed and turned the pages for him. You stopped between to grab yourself and Vergil some water, giving him a blue bendy straw. As the clock hands went around, soon one voice grew the soft company of another. The crest and the trough of tones had embraced, two speakers and one poem. Eventually, you met the unique page from before. 

_“The Garden of Love_

_I went to the Garden of Love._

_And saw what I never had seen:_

_A Chapel was built in the midst,_

_Where I used to play on the green._

_And the gates of this Chapel were shut,_

_And Thou shalt not, writ over the door;_

_So I turn’d to the Garden of Love,_

_That so many sweet flowers bore,_

_And I saw it was filled with graves,_

_And tomb-stones where flowers should be:_

_And priests in black gowns, were walking their rounds,_

_And binding with briars, my joys ; desires.”_

You tried to copy Vergil, reading off of the page, and avoiding stuttering. The observer shakily held the harp of their own vocal cords, the previous strummer lounging and watching the words take flight above his blue-eyed gaze like flittering sparrows. 

By the time you were finished with the last verse, you turned to see that Vergil’s eyes were directed at you. It’s too bad you didn’t know they were upon you for some time. You gently grazed the dog-eared page. 

“Why did you mark this page?” 

“It is a poem that reminds me of another.” You were slightly puzzled but smiled nonetheless. 

“Well, they’re very lucky to be beheld, I guess.” Vergil stared at you, his eyes bewitched to your profile. With the slope of your face, Vergil swore even the most wonderful sculptors could not capture you to your truest attractiveness. 

“I am luckier to have been in their company for the last few hours.” He rasped. You turned your face, a privilege Vergil wished he could have, to prevent from seeing a negative reaction from you. 

“Me?” You softly said. The book was forgotten, landing on Vergil’s chest. 

“I understand I do not speak to you as much as I wish. I am not as socially affable as my brother. But I do share my affections upon you, in words not of my own. In my most vulnerable, I find cherished company with you.” 

You were quiet. 

“If that’s not the case with you, I am in complete understanding. You are a kind person. You would do the same for my brother if he was in the same situation. I do not wish for this to be ill to our cooperation in this business-” 

“Say less.” You giggled, putting your finger on his lips to shush him. Vergil scrunched his nose as his ears turned red, had he said too much? Had he made a fool of himself? 

Instead, he had seen the color of pink, a shade even the finest roses could not bloom to, appear upon the apples of your cheeks. 

“I like you too, Vergil. I didn’t do all that for you to just be nice. I like getting to know you.” Despite his numbness, his heartbeat in his chest like the rain of an angry storm against the earth.

His chapped lips found the capacity to move. 

“Perhaps, when this wretched poison leaves my form, we may find time to do this again.” 

“I’d like that too.” Your eyes squinting with a diamond grin, Vergil made a noise of contentment. 

“It is a day I look forward to-“

“I had so much ice cream today!” Dante yelled as he walked into the shop again. 

“Whoops, you guys look like you were having a nice moment.” Dante winked at Vergil, who growled. 

“Oh hey, Dante!” 

Dante waved at you. 

“I got you guys some dinner since I know (Y/N)’s tired of dealing with shithead here. Vergil couldn’t cook for shit even when he was able-bodied.” 

“I can boil an egg.” Vergil bit back. Dante handed you some Asian takeout, still warm. 

“Don’t worry Verg, I’ll blend yours so you can drink it.” 

“It’s fine, I can help him.” You winked at Dante who waggled his eyebrows. 

The evening ended fairly well. You fed Vergil bits of vegetables and noodles while Dante read his questionable magazines. It was much too late to be going back home, so Dante threw you some blankets and pillows to stay the night. 

Although Vergil offered you his room to rest in, you shook your head. 

“Who’s going to keep you company?” Dante wolf-whistled before retreating to his room upstairs. 

“Leave us!” Vergil exclaimed. You laughed again. 

You turned off the lights and dodged random objects lying around in the dark. You found the familiar softness of pillows and your makeshift bed. 

Vergil fell asleep, feeling wanted. It was a warm sensation that spread to even his fingers, soft and supple. 

He didn’t even notice his hand had come loose and drifted to trace your cheek in both your slumbers. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Local Cowboy Loves Writing In Fourth Wall Breaks: Please Comment If You Like It And Would Like To See It Happen in Future Works._


End file.
